


Say You Will

by lool_gilliana (HJC_ChenZhiDe)



Series: Say You Will [1]
Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Angst and Porn, Before Florence, Episode: s03e01 Antipasto, F/M, First Time Kiss, First Time Sex, Light Angst, Marriage Proposal, Pre-Canon I think
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-06
Updated: 2020-07-06
Packaged: 2021-03-04 22:40:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,348
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25114057
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HJC_ChenZhiDe/pseuds/lool_gilliana
Summary: Before they navigated their new life to Florence, there are some unresolved (sexual) tensions between Hannibal and Bedelia that needed to resolve.
Relationships: Bedannibal, Bedelia Du Maurier & Hannibal Lecter, Bedelia Du Maurier/Hannibal Lecter, Hannidelia - Relationship
Series: Say You Will [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1837849
Comments: 2
Kudos: 30





	Say You Will

**Author's Note:**

> Hello from the other side!  
> This is my first fic on AO3, it is also my first English fic as English is not my mother tongue. So apologies in advanced for the mistakes, vocabulary, and grammar errors.  
> Anyway, please enjoy!  
> -  
> Fic inspired by fan-made video "swallow my sins | hannibal + bedelia" by @iamoverjoyed on Youtube.

The night he gave her a new identity, a new status, he gave them a whole new trajectory of life.

In which, he had no intentions at initial but went along as their game continued day by day, as the unregistered feelings grew within hovering him all at once. It always lied there - bare, obscure, the deepest desire that he can no longer escape. 

For once he thought of killing Bedelia Du Maurier. 

The sharpness of his knife met her soft porcelain skin, cutting her with ease; he was always manifesting a recipe that was only compatible with her meaning towards him, eating her with the highest aesthetic. 

However, he had never thought that he eventually killed her and ate her this way. _Tonight_.

She was curling up on the bed as she used to be when he arrived their hidden, luxurious but a temporary resting nest at late night. With her head resting in her palm as she leaned on the pillow, she was reading an old book written in French grasped at her other hand that had its title engraved in gold by its hard-cover. Her bare face immersed in the warmth light radiated from the lamp on the nightstand, a sprinkle of freckles over the bridge of her nose and cheeks did not affect her stunning profile to the slightest. The moonlight streamed through the open door from the adjacent balcony in her room, enhancing her body curves beneath the satin slip in peach, coating her entire pose in silver shines. 

When he registered his presence by entering her room without acknowledgement, standing straight with grace before the bedroom bench, she moved her eyesight away from the lines in the books and met his gaze. After a quick scan of his entire appearance - from his unreadable but peaceful expression to his perfectly fitted leather coat - she drew her slight glares away almost instantly. She resumed her reading, as though his presence had abruptly disturbed the rare moments which she found at least enjoyable since they fled.

But she already obtained what she wanted - his darken leather had caught the wind and dust of a Paris night, but just as clean as he left the apartment that evening. Besides, there were no visibly bruises and wounds notified on him where she caught a relief that surprising herself secretly afterwards. 

“You are rather late tonight.” so she parted her lips, eyes still stung at the contents at hand, as a way to compose herself and regain her dominance in this situation. 

A cool breeze on a late summer night drifted into the room and lifted her curls at her temple. She put down the book for a moment before she tucked the platinum blonde curls behind her ear. 

It was that second for all these times, Hannibal decided to savour her - every single inch of her!

"And you are still conscious at this late," he announced calmly. He always managed to hold himself to every perfect manner though the mixed emotions had already flooded all of him. "I presumed someone has you waiting. You left the door of your room opened.”

She turned to him instead of getting back the book. Her eyes filled with icy calmness and an attempt to conceal her true feelings.

There was an unspoken routine since they decided to get themselves into each other and then fled away. In which, they would have a brief conversation before each of them retired to their own rooms - from a casual talk like an update of the day to important matters such as plans and necessary actions to navigate their next step in the foreseeable future.

Of course, she knew what he had done tonight. Of course, she waited long night just for his return.

It was because she wanted him to come back safely and alive. It was because she wanted to lay her eyes on him before she went to sleep every night. It was all she wanted to feed her sense of security and keep her strengths against insanity.

Rationality told her she was in danger, every single cell within her screamed for reasoning all along before she sank into slumber at night and opened her eyes in the dawn’s first light. But she was curious, she was unresistant not to follow this human-kind beast behind his mysterious veil. As she could not help herself from following him, then she at least needed something from him as if her choice was not insane.

She was not _insane_. 

Therefore, when she noticed the changes in his darkened eyes, she again took the initiative to break their gazes. For she already knew he was safe, she was careless of other irrelevant signals. 

“So I shall bid you goodnight, Hannibal.” She stretched a quick but tender smile before she reached for her book and put on the nightstand. Laying down her elbow to switch the lamp off, she then slipped into bed and finally welcomed herself to slumber.

She already got what she wanted. But he did not.

The tense from the arousal stretching his muscles tightly, causing his senses to alert all their ways. He can hear the blood running through his dilated blood vessels as his heart pumped to its fastest. When he unzipped his leather coat gently and lied it on the bedroom bench, he did not even slip out a single breathe.

He was at tense. This unfamiliar, indecipherable, risen tense had brought him both excitement and hesitation.

It was because the one who lied down before him was Bedelia. 

For the past until the second before this, there was always an invisible boundary set between them. A professional line as she would have declared as she was his colleague, his psychiatrist, his perceived friend, and now his companion in crimes.

None of these roles and statuses should have him been allowed to cross that line. Even though he violated the standards of the boundary between them several times as she claimed before, but he should not be approved himself to this extent.

But soon he will see her differently - he had made the decision, he will see her as his other part like the split from his mind. He knew she was similar to him in some kinds. He and she were compatible in some ways.

His hesitation turned into a crystal-clear determination in a single wave of pulling his fitted t-shirt and tossed it onto the wooden floor. It was the time when he unbuttoned and opened his pants - now with a quicker move, the sound he made had awoke her. 

She rose with her elbows and frowned, tilting against the headboard, eyes staring at the man at the end of her bed performing his acts through the hazy light across the room. Though she was confused and numbed from the shallow sleep, her sensations were soon turned into work, even faster than she could identify what was happening.

Then, a strong realisation hit her. 

"Hannibal?" she pulled out his name with roughness. Her mouth was dried enough for her to swallow hard.

When he finally dropped his last piece onto the floor, he met her shocking eyes through his strands of fringe that blocked his sight. He was nude, his body shades with flaming red like the fire burned into the sky. The thunders of desire in his piercing eyes struck through her, unable to move nor breathe, as she was stabbed and burnt into deepest if he could see her soul.

He broke the tension between them and made his move towards her. Crawling over the bedroom bench and then the angelic-white bed that resurfaced by her body warmth, he moved closer and closer to her as she froze at her position.

She was a fool. She was not to withdraw any signals that this man had sent intentionally or unintentionally, no matter it was relevant to the prospect or on the contrary. She was always so observant and analytic that she should have been aware at the very beginning.

Despite for a brief moment that she cursed for her carelessness, some faded memories that she had repressed for a long time suddenly evoked - for what had happened right now, and even later, she was not unaware at all. For years she had been kept in contact with Hannibal Lecter, she was able to observe this man presented and confessed whatever he called his true self. Before the person-suit, behind the human-veil. Regardless his real intention was to toy with her or expose her with his shades, the moment when he asked to become her only patient by ignoring her retirement, no doubt he had given her his permission to let her seen through him.

It was now the time she paid for this.

He paused at the moment when his lips were close enough to reach hers, and she was now looking into his eyes fearlessly.

"Is this what you intended?" she asked without missing single blink from him.

"I am feeling cold. Do you?" ignoring the question, he reached for the sheets that covered her and pulled aside. “If we are close enough, we can keep each other warm.”

He climbed upon her, kneeled aside her laps, the hands that just made himself an exquisite dinner hours ago had now reached the fair skin of her shoulders. He was not cold at all - his body heat almost blazed her into ashes. 

When he leaned over to press a kiss on her lips, she tilted her head away and missed it.

“Bedelia…” he whispered her name into her skin, a slight disappointment slipped along his whisper and swung between their breaths.

"I have anticipated this to happen."

She refused to turn back to him, eyes pinned at the Eiffel Tower that glittered in distance through the open door of the balcony. When he instead brushed his lips across the back of her ear, she struggled to hold her gasps.

“But?” he sensed the break of her sentence, like the dancing notes on the piano staff jumped to a sudden ending.

“But,” she continued with his remaining, found herself increasingly breathless to present her sentence word by word with all her will. “for what I did not anticipate, is why now.” 

He had his manners. He had his rules. For she has fled with him long enough, he had not wanted her every time she thought it was _the time_ , not even sharing a kiss. He merely touched her, soothed her years ago - the day when her hand stained with crimson that pricked her sight, he helped her to wash away as he swallowed her sins and she handed in her life. 

She tried her best to maintain her concentrations, regulate her breathing and regain her consciousness. She was desperately browsing any psychological techniques in her memories that could calm her rising adrenaline and racing heartbeats as he started to shove himself towards her neck, then down to her chest. She wanted to push against the mechanism of flight of fight - she would not run away from her current situation as it was useless, yet she would not want to fight with this man on bed who can break her neck in a glimpse.

She just wanted an answer. She wanted to ensure she herself was in control and not insane.

Expecting for his response, she forced herself to imagine the skyline of Paris as a mechanism to stay focus and acted as a distraction to shade away the sensations given from his arousal. This was Paris, the city of love. She wanted herself to visualise the breaking dawn where she can see from this position, the rising sun slowly flashed its shines where she could catch if she crossed her fingers like a net then sparkled her minds. But when he swept away the straps of her satin slip and cupped her breast and sucked her, she could not even imagine above them there were stars still shining in the night sky.

“You do not want it?" he bit her nipples gently. It was his response given to her failed anticipation.

She shut her eyes and breathed heavily. She was unintended to give up her rationality. _Yet_.

“I understand it is one of the basic human needs…" she stated while he pulled her slip down to her body, then hips, then feet, revealing her black lace panties. She coordinated herself to his rhythm mechanically. “As to acquire the equilibrium of our relationship, I believe this kind of exchange is necessary.”

“What kind of exchange to be specific?”

“You helped me,” she groaned silently, reaching her hands to the sheets scattered around and clutched them while his lips were now approaching the sensitive skin of her lower abdomen. “and I will fulfil your needs.”

He stunned by her words for a second without she realised. She was decisive to feed his desire but reluctant to acknowledge herself was the one he wanted to _make love_ with. She was not even open her eyes to see him - to see this bare, genuine him with a raw force to give her his honesty. 

When he unclothed himself pieces by pieces in front of her, he was ripped off his veil levels by levels for her. Tonight, he let her see him without his veil. For the first time. With the most sincerity. 

But she did not want it. For her, it was solely a kind of _exchange_.

He did not speak for the rest of the time as if her words and perceptions had beaten him thoroughly. He squeezed her thighs in a way too vigorous than his previous touches, forcing a sudden moan out of her. He neglected her discomforts and ripped off her panties with only one hand. 

They were finally with the barest of each other – the basic human form, their genuine and unhidden selves. She was one of the very few women in his life who had made him willing to install their beauties in his minds palace. But when he was eventually on top of her, eyeing and savouring every single inch of her flesh, he was still stunned by how beautiful she was without any glamorous fabrics. If only she was _with him_ now, their overlapping bodies might heat the amiability on the souls.

When he was beyond unhesitant, he lied her down so that her head can roll back to the pillow. He separated her legs and kneeled into space between them. She felt his swollen at her lower part and finally opened her eyes nervously.

Although her personal life experiences and years in the profession were abundant to tell what happened later was a basic human need and even a pleasure that can drive people to sin. And no doubt she had thought about herself and him - damned the professional line, to the end they were merely a pair of man and woman whose unresolved tensions hanging across the air between them as far as they existed with each other. 

Nonetheless, this moment caused her nothing but anxiety. The feeling of anxious waved her, the uncertainty that piled up in her chest almost choked her to breathe. She thought she was not unprepared at all for this to happen. She believed she was able to commit to a man just for a night. 

But he was Hannibal Lecter. A man that can split her into half by only whispering his name.

"Hanni…" she intended to say something but was disrupted by his tongue streaming over her breasts harder and harder. He was not allowed a single word to slide out from her mouth again. He then kissed her chin, neck, and ears… but never her lips. He was deliberately repressing himself to kiss her there again. 

As she did not want it, as he knew he would hurt by this.

He caught her hands and forced her to let go of the sheets before he pinned them aside from her head. He used his thighs to press against hers as he penetrated her. A warm sensation soon embraced him with tightness, which he let out a sigh of enjoyment. 

He gazed down at her with fiercely cold, but her furrowed eyebrows and facial expression that reflected in pain stung his sight and engraved into his memory. It caught him off guard. By the time she gasped heavily at his invasion, her back arched for receiving his forces that followed by, he paused his irruption into her immediately.

She was not ready.

He felt the hardness as he pushed into her, and he felt her entire body tensed as she forced to sustain his conquer. She bit her lower lip as her teeth might pierce it out with blood. Her hands that pinned by him now clenched in fists.

He almost could not help himself to kiss her.

It was her to make the unregistered feelings grew within him became real, they overwhelmed him all at once tonight that he decided to show her his trueness. Still, it was also her at this very moment that permeated his minds with an unexpected emotional turmoil that was strong enough to tear him apart - she was not ready for him, both emotionally and physically.

He tried to rationalise his actions and recklessness, but only found himself drowned with the senses of guilty and self-blame. They were such feelings that he had never really experienced. And the most shocking thing that erased his ability to react, it was when the obligation of protective fell upon his shoulders when he recognised her expression that he caused her pain. 

_I feel protective of you_. 

He told her at one of their sessions without a real investment of emotions. Yet, in this second, every word of his sentence from the past haunted him back. They weighed down his body by each of their meanings.

As he became aware that he was the one to be blamed through their bond, he now ached as if he can ease her pain.

He unpinned her hands and started to pull himself out of her. By the time he almost removed himself entirely from her, her arms wrapped around his back heavily and pulled him closer. Her wrists encircled by the red marks resulted from his forces.

"No," she breathed, the words swung from her mouth unexpectedly. "keep going."

“You are not ready.” 

“I am.” she protested as she looked into his concern eyes in the dark.

"You are in pain," he said quietly. "I must not let you encounter this unpleasant experience ever since I was the one to carry most of the responsibilities. I have to protect you." 

"But I…" she rested for a moment, winked more than once as if the tears would escape from her eyes. "I want you, Hannibal."

Even before the ending sound of his name disappeared, he gazed down at her with much to his surprised. She did not know how strong her words can break the man on top of her into pieces.

“When I request your answer about… ‘why now’, it was because I want to ensure you that I will fulfil you." she sighed when she was murmuring her words into the air. “As I followed you not because it was your choice, but because it was _our_ choices. It is a relationship with reciprocity.”

She frowned again as she adjusted her position beneath him. He weighed on her and still inside her. But she soon revealed a weak smile to comfort him but also herself. She was getting used by his existence within her.

“Bedelia…" he whispered her name once again, with little happiness glittered within his chest. He moved his left arm, palming the back of her shoulder to hold her. He could not be more tender while brushing her cheek using the other. 

When he leaned over, kissing her shut eyes, he was now ready to provide her with an answer. "You should never ask. Because wonderful things should never be explained." 

Her grip to his back was more tightly. She opened her eyes and raised to meet his gaze, bit her lips with a blush of reserve. "It will beyond wonderful if someone can be more gentle."

Eventually, he smiled. His lips moved upwards to her profile and finally left a kiss on her forehead as a promise that he kept her words. When he propped up and resumed his penetration into her, she furrowed her eyebrows again but was determined to hold it all. By the time he buried himself into her deepest, she sunk her nails into his back. Both passionate and satisfaction brought moans to their lips. They tucked together as the vines grew together that climbed over the bricks in the history of old Paris.

He moved in and out with a slower pace that was full of tenderness and patience. He cared about her, which can exhibit all over her face even in the greyness. The pain and discomforts that she felt from the frictions were faded soon as he slowed down his pace. She moved her hands gently towards his pelvis, as they moved in a rhythm that only belonged to him and her.

She felt her skin burnt into flames as his fingers softly traced the patterns of every inch on her skin. Her chest was layered with sweat as her heart was racing to its maximum. Apart of her was still experiencing anxious as if she could not remember the warmth and pressure of his kisses and touches all over her body as she almost lost her minds into pleasure.

She wanted to keep her rationality. She just wanted to remember _all of it_. 

He was different to her as if she did not know him before. But he still smelled the same - the smell of his sweat mixed with the expensive cologne had created a unique sense that reminded her of his existence, refreshed her memories over and over. And now she was no longer suffer from forgetting, as he melted his scent into her skin eternally. 

He found she was rather soundless, or even inexperienced in some ways. But it was good to be quiet, as there were only sounds of their collisions and harsh breathings in the background, their heartbeats to each other were still bouncing back and forth from the walls of her room and echoing from their embraced chests. 

At some moments he was pondering her words, her capability to be with him in this choice they had made as she proclaimed. Was it settled in her minds even before she agreed to flee with him? Or even when she pointed her gunshot towards him?

To clarify or not, Bedelia Du Maurier has her veil. In which he was keen to explore her, but not in the way she did to him - he wanted to eat her out, to turn her inside out. He believed he had times, as they will soon navigate to their new life. 

It was a kind of exchange, a reciprocity relationship anyway.

She came quietly, released a soft groan into his shoulder when she wrapped around his neck. Her abdomen shivered while her thighs clapped tightly around his. She cherished the rush of dopamine across her as nothing ever felt like this. She had only a few men in her life that she had sexual intimacies with as she was only committed to serious relationships. But he had given her a whole new experience - exquisite _first-time intercourse_ with a man who she even not thought of she will get herself into.

As he was thrusting into her more and more vigorous yet she was still manageable, he moaned at his last and longest momentum to a powerful release. He rested on her and relaxed by her side. He was facing her, grasping for the air to fill up his lungs.

The summer night in Paris filled with heat and humidity. The hormonal pleasure evaporated to the atmosphere, added lush and intimacy to this city of love.

In the darkness, he can see her warm blue eyes, twinkling like the stars painted the sky outside. He had never disclosed to anyone that he embedded her into his minds palace first with her pair of eyes, so attractive yet so mysterious, as they can infiltrate one's soul to the deepest. 

For him, that pair of eyes pierced into his heart.

He was not willing to let himself out of her yet as if he will lose her before he said those words. Though he was exhausted as he drained his energy for the events throughout the entire day, he was determined to move up, supported himself with his elbows and rested at each of her sides.

She looked into his eyes with curiosity. But no words were registered between them, only their heartbeats lasted.

"Be my wife, Bedelia," he said it rather calmly, a sense of determination and expectation hidden from his words. "say you will."

For she can see this as an exchange, and even unaware the seeds of genuine feelings that she had sown to his heartland. But he had _killed_ Bedelia Du Maurier tonight - he had made her a new her from the moment he made this decision, he needed her to say she will.

"Be your wife," she repeated before her voice back to her normalcy, almost empty. "is it to Roman Fell or Hannibal Lecter?"

Staring down into her watery eyes, he hesitated for a moment. He was pondering his capability of embracing her and her willingness to see this as a choice they made together again. But when he just parted his lips, he heard the words that he always wanted.

"I will." she whispered. 

He just realised she had given her choice even before he can remember who he was. 

He leaned towards her in a silence breath, lips searching for the match, and eventually locked hers passionately when the sky has beamed its first grey light. 

For the first time, tonight, they both will.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading to the end!  
> To be honest, I've never think of myself to be able to write fic in English and even up until this long. I am content with the outcome though there must be rooms for improvement. But I do hope you enjoy the reading as much as I enjoy to write about Hannibal and Bedelia in this fic! :)  
> -  
> And of course welcome any comment/feedback/suggestion. They will be very much appreciated!  
> Stay safe and stay healthy!  
> -  
> [Fun facts]  
> 1\. The sequences: They had sex > He "proposed" > They kissed  
> 2\. Hannibal used "make love" to describe his desire on Bedelia but she referred their sweet night as "first-time intercourse"  
> 


End file.
